Anatomy of a Contractor
by Burning Glass
Summary: Mitch Parker lived a normal life, until his friend starts to act weird, and after tragedy befalls her family, she has to move across the world. When strange things start to happen, Mitch begins questioning what he is, or rather what he's turned into.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I groaned as the bright sunlight hit my closed eyelids. I rubbed the sleep from my grey eyes and opened them slowly. My pupils adjusted to the sudden change of light and I could now see the blue, cloud filled sky. Not that it made me overjoyed or anything, especially since the stupid sun woke me up in the first place. God, this is annoying.

I slowly raised myself up from lying down and ran my fingers through my hair. I pulled my hand away and examined it. A few stray strands had wound their way around my fingers. I could tell what time of year it was depending on the lightness of my hair. It was a bright blond; summertime. In winter it was much darker, bordering on brown. Therefore, if I somehow turned idiot and didn't have the capacity to look out the window or register the temperature outside, my hair would still be able to tell the time of year for me.

I let the hairs fall to the ground and pushed myself up. I dusted myself off and yawned. I looked around and I registered that I was in a park. I didn't know what park it was, and I probably didn't know what park it was when I came.

I frowned. Must have gone for a walk. I'd been angry...angry at...Ivy.

I sighed heavily. The entire conversation of the previous night came back to me in all its horrible clarity. We'd been fighting. Again. Over the phone. How is it possible to be so angry at someone thousands of miles away? She'd moved away to Japan six months ago yet she still had such a firm grip on my life. I hated it.

The phone call had started out innocently enough.

"_How are you?" _Ivy asked.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"_I'm great. How's the weather over there?" _

"It's pretty cloudy."

"_I see. So, do you miss me?" _

"Well no, not really."

"_Aww you're so mean. When are you going to come over?"_

"We talked about this. I'm never going over there. Never."

"_...What?"_

And that was where it all went downhill. It didn't matter that we'd discussed it before, countless times I might add. It didn't matter that Japan was over twelve hours away by plane. It didn't matter that I would have to leave my entire life behind. The only thing that mattered was that she was upset that I completely shut down her idea of my coming to live with her.

It was absurd. How could she expect me to just drop everything and run to her? You don't follow your friends when they move away. You stay behind, pine for them for a few weeks and then try and move on. Her constant calls and her insistence were making the moving on part rather difficult.

At some point in every conversation we had she would bring it up. At some point in every conversation we had I would turn her down. And at the end of every conversation we had I got angry. I had a bad habit of wandering around aimlessly when I got upset. I'd left late last night, around eleven thirty. I must have ended up walking to this park, caught up in the whirlwind of my emotions.

The worst part about this, you see, is that it is quite possible for me to leave everything behind and move away. I am an orphan. My nearest relative is my aunt who practically lives in the hospital with several problems with her heart and blood. And, even if she were healthy, I wouldn't have to live with her because I'm eighteen. I have a job, but that was easy enough to quit. I was out of high school and I had few people who I could honestly call 'friends'. It was merely a matter of speaking to my landlord, picking up the things in my apartment, and getting on the next plane to Japan. That was what bothered me. And that was also what bothered Ivy.

I was starting to realize that, despite my most desperate efforts, the idea was starting to grow on me. But I refused to give in. I would stay here out of sheer spite if I had to. Worst comes to worst I move to some random country, change my name and life a relatively normal life with no interference from Ivy. Over the top I know, but sometimes it's the most irrational plans that calm you down.

It was actually that plan that had gotten me to lie down on the grass and try to sleep.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. All this thinking can't be healthy.

I found a trail and followed it to the edge of the park. It was Saturday and I had the day off so I was free to do what I wanted. I decided I would go to the observatory. I wanted to see the stars, and I wasn't in the mood to wait until night.

I walked quite a few blocks. I felt detached, detached enough to not pay complete attention to the street lights that were showing that now would be a very bad time to cross the street. I did not see those lights and therefore ended up crossing the street while cars coming towards me were not slowing down. It was only when the horn blared at me did I jolt back into the present and step backward to narrowly avoid being hit by a black Bentley.

I couldn't see who was driving, but the passenger was an old man with round glasses and a grey beard. He stared at me. There was something deeply unsettling about his stare, something in his brown eyes that made me uncomfortable. The car quickly pulled away into traffic and disappeared.

I shook my head to clear it. A few strangers asked me if I was okay. I nodded mutely and continued on my way.

It took about thirty more minutes of walking to reach the observatory. I paid the entrance fee and began walking around inside. The entire building was divided into two sections; a large section and one that's fairly small. The first was about the sky and outer space before the gates appeared, the second was after. I spent most of the time in the first room as did most of the older generation who had grown up with the original stars.

I hated the sky now. I disliked those cubic zirconium stars glimmering, portraying false hope. The thing was that I was probably one of the only ones who knew about the distinct different between the two sections. I had discovered that society at large was not up to speed about most things that occurred these days. Contractors and their powers, I knew about them. How? Ivy.

It had happened six and a half months ago. She had been acting strange, on edge all the time. One night I finally asked her what was wrong. I wish I hadn't asked that question. It had lead to blood, shock, and her leaving this country forever. Part of me thinks that if I hadn't asked her, nothing would have changed. The other part of me knows better.

I couldn't help remembering every single detail about that day.

The sky was filled with dark grey clouds. You could almost feel the storm coming. There was a chill in the air with a biting wind. The shadows seemed sinister and the people were agitated, as if they could tell that something unpleasant was going to happen. I had forgotten my coat; it was sitting on my bed. I had left without it, and was paying for it. My cheeks were soon red and goose bumps rose on my arms. I rubbed my arms and my teeth chattered. The wind was enough to make me squint and have to brush away the tears that were constantly forming.

The reason I was out walking? I was going to see Ivy. She had called and told me to meet her at her house. Then she hung up after she had finished talking, giving me no time to argue. I had grumbled about it but could find no good reason not to go, so I went.

As I began walking, it started to rain. Fat, wet drops fell on my head, soaking me in a matter of seconds. After twenty minutes I made it to her house. I knocked on her front door, shivering. No one answered. I looked around and saw a damp piece of paper lying on the ground in front of the door. I picked it up and looked it over. The writing was in blue ink and so the water made it run, but it was still legible. It read:

**Mitch,**

**Meet me in the backyard. We need to talk.**

**Ivy**

I shoved the note in my pocket, walked around the side of her house, and through the iron gate into her backyard. I closed the gate behind me and trudged across the puddles that were already forming in the grass. I spotted her sitting on the wooden swing that hung from the large oak tree that touched the edge of her property. Her red hair was plastered to her head and her clothes clung to her. She must have been sitting there for a while.

As I approached, she turned to look at me with sad, green eyes. She smiled, but it was filled with bitterness, "Good morning Mitch."

"It's two o'clock in the afternoon." I replied, taking a seat beside her on the large swing.

"Whatever you say." She answered dully.

I blinked in surprise. She was usually so feisty. If ever I went against what she said, she would simply declare that she was right and wouldn't let it go until I admitted that she was right. For her to just drop the subject like that...something must be very wrong.

Unsure where to begin I decided to go with, "So...how are you?"

She didn't reply right away. After a moment she replied in a quiet voice, "I hardly know anymore."

I was troubled by this, but didn't let it show, "...I see. Well, why did you call me?"

"I wanted to talk to you...to hear your voice. I think I'm...I'm going crazy." Her voice was so quiet, just above a whisper.

I didn't know what to say. I didn't say anything.

"The sky...it used to be so wonderful. Wasn't it?" she continued.

I nodded, "Yes, yes it was."

"Now there are new stars... do you think the old ones are gone?" she asked.

I took a moment to think about it. It had been a year and a half since the stars changed. Were the other ones gone? I shook my head slowly, "It's difficult to say."

She laughed humourlessly, "Always thinking. You're so rational all the time, do you know that?"

"I've heard the occasional rumour." I answered.

She picked at her wet, orange shirt, "I'm not rational at all am I?"

I looked at her, confused, "I was under the impression that rationality didn't really matter to you."

She didn't answer. I felt compelled to say something nice, no matter how embarrassing it might be.

I turned to her and said, "Well you know...I think that the fact that you're irrational is a part of you. It makes you who you are."

Her head snapped towards me, eyes wide. Her lip trembled, then she burst into tears.

I reared back in surprise, "W-what is it? What did I say?"

She sobbed harder.

I didn't understand. What did I say that was so upsetting?

I gripped her by the shoulders and made her turn to face me, "What's the matter? What's wrong?"

Suddenly her large, teary eyes were fixed on mine. A red glow filled the centre of her pupils. The branches of the oak tree jerked, then shot at me. I cried out as they wound their way around my arms and legs. They lifted me high in the air. I struggled and pulled, but the branches held fast.

Ivy was standing up now, starring at me in horror. Her hands covered her mouth, and I could see she was trembling.

"No! Not again!" she screamed. Again? This happened before? Was she doing this?

Another tree branch snaked towards me. Towards my throat.

Ivy screamed again and the tree branch sped up.

"Stop!" I shouted.

Her scream cut off abruptly. The tree branch froze. Then it continued forwards, this time very slowly. Ivy was controlling these things? If that was the case then I needed to calm her down.

I turned my head and looked at her, "Ivy, calm down! You have to calm down!"

She was still trembling. Her eyes were glued to the branches. She whimpered.

I realized shouting would just made her freak out more, so I tried to make my voice sound as normal as possible, "Ivy, relax. Take a deep breath."

She took a quick breath in and out.

"No Ivy, take a deep one. I'll take one too. Breathe in." I breathed in. So did she.

"Now breathe out." I breathed out. So did she.

The tree branch was moving at a snail's pace. But it was still moving.

"Now, could you move the tree branches away from me please?"

"But I don't know how!" she cried.

The branches tightened.

"It's okay. It's alright." I said quickly, "Let's just stay calm. Take another breath."

She took a deep breath. The branches loosened a little.

I didn't know how this had happened, but somehow Ivy made the branches attack me. There was no other explanation. Not that the explanation made any sense. How was that event possible? I could figure it out after the oak branches released me.

"Ivy, try and make the branches let go, but stay calm."

"H-h-how?" she stuttered.

That was a good question, "Um, do you remember what you did to make the branches move in the first place."

"N-not really..." she rubbed the tears from her eyes. She was calming down now.

I wracked my brain for something that might work, "Okay, try picturing the branches letting me go."

She closed her eyes for a moment then opened them. Nothing happened.

"Mitch it isn't working!" she was getting worked up again. That made things worse.

"It will be okay. Just stay calm." I had no idea if it would be okay but someone had to be in charge and Ivy didn't seem to be in the best shape.

I thought hard for something else that might work. Then I remembered what happened before the branches attacked.

"Before, what were you feeling?" I asked her.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, "What?"

"When you were crying, how did you feel?"

She shifted from foot to foot, something she did when she was nervous, "I was...so sad. I felt like my world was ending."

I frowned, but I didn't have the time to ask her why she felt that way. The tree branch was still making its way towards my throat.

"Try and feel like that again. While you feel like that, try and make the branches let go."

She pursed her lips, "I don't know..."

"We don't have much time before this tree strangles me. Just try."

She closed her eyes again. The tree branch was inches away now. I strained my head to go back as far as it could. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Ivy's eyes open. The red glow was in her pupils again, and I could have sworn she glowed blue a little.

Just as the branch was about to choke the life out of me, the branches holding me in place let me go without warning. I slammed into the ground. Painfully.

Ivy walked over to me, extending her hand, "Need some help?"

I reached up and she pulled me up. I smiled weakly at her. She smiled back.

"So...what now?" she asked.

I opened my mouth to answer, but just then Ivy's mother, Lucy, opened the back door that lead into the backyard.

"Hello Ivy! Have you seen your father?"

Lucy's cheery voice startled me. It startled Ivy too. It startled her enough for her pupils to glow red.

"Ivy no!" I shouted. That was the last thing Lucy heard before a root speared her through her heart.

Ivy broke out into screams and sobs. She fell to her knees.

"No no no! Not again, NO! Why, why is this happening? Please no..." she wailed.

I was stunned. Just like that Lucy's life had ended. I saw blood welling up around her wound and at the same time being washed away by the rain. I stared. My mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out. My brain felt like it was short-circuiting. Lucy, dead? Ivy, a murderer? Everything had happened so fast. It was all over in a split-second. This can't be real. I felt my stomach clench and a wave of nausea overtook me.

For some reason I suddenly had the notion that I needed to get Ivy away from here, now. I dropped down next to her. I grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up so that we were both standing. She turned and wrapped her arms around me tightly, crying into my chest. My arms hung limply by my sides. I couldn't summon up enough energy or will to comfort her. I was too shell-shocked.

Ivy continued to weep into my already soaked black shirt. I looked up at the sky. The rain showed no sign of letting up. We had to get inside. I tried to pry off her arms, but she had an iron grip.

I sighed quietly. We stood like that for a few minutes until finally she let go. I placed my hand on her back and started pushing her towards the back door.

We were almost inside, when she froze. She turned around and walked over to the oak tree. I saw her pick up two rocks. She dug two holes in the dirt and placed one of the rocks in each. She buried them and then she made some sort of marking in the dirt over where they were buried. She stood up and walked past me, stepped over the body of her mother, went through the open door, and into the house. I followed her in.

Inside was the kitchen. It had stainless steel appliances and beige countertops. It wasn't particularly remarkable nor was it very large. There was a round table made out of dark wood with four chairs. Ivy stumbled towards one and sat down heavily. I paused, then sat down in the chair closest to her.

We didn't speak. I didn't know how to begin. I don't how long we sat like that. An hour maybe? In any case, my brain was rebooting. I began to need things. A shiver wracked my body. I was very cold.

I stood up and left the room, off to go get us some towels.

I left Ivy sitting there, eyes glued to the floor.

I exited the kitchen and went into the living room. I knew my way around her house quite well. She was my closest friend, after all. I shuffled across the carpet, leaving a trail of water in my wake. I went upstairs and down the hall. The last door on the left was a closet that held Ivy's family's sheets and towels. The door opened with a loud _squeak_. I pulled out two large beach towels then shut the door.

When I came back downstairs I noticed that Ivy was now standing in front of the open door. I went up and stood next to her. Her hand was hovering next to the door, as if she were going to close it. Her eyes were fixed on the corpse of her mother which was lying a meter away, a bloodied root sticking out of her back.

I unfolded the towel and put it on her head. It covered her eyes which was my intent. I forced my eyes away from Lucy, which I admit was difficult. She couldn't deal with that right now. _I _couldn't deal with that right now. I might snap if I thought about it too much.

Ivy didn't move. I grasped her hand and lowered it so it hung by her side. I reached out and shut the door. I turned her around and pushed back towards the table, then pushed her down so that she was once again sitting in the chair. She didn't protest.

I sat down next to her and began to dry myself, trying desperately not to think. After a time, Ivy began drying herself too. Though, there really wasn't much we could do without a change of clothes.

I eventually gave up on the endeavour and let the towel hang around my neck. Ivy still hadn't spoken a word.

Somewhere in the back of my burned out light bulb of a mind I realized we would get hypothermia if we just sat here unmoving for hours.

I rose and went over to the far cupboard. I pulled out the kettle and filled it with water. I put it on the element and turned the dial on high, then I opened a second cupboard and examined the different brands of tea. I picked up a box of Earl Grey, turned, and held out the box to Ivy, silently asking if this flavour of tea would suffice.

She looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. I took that as an 'any kind is fine' or something along those lines.

I opened up the box and pulled out two tea bags then placed them on the counter. I picked out two mugs and set them beside the tea bags, opened the drawer, and pulled out two small spoons and set them down beside the mugs. I leaned back on the edge of the counter, letting my eyes wander around the room while waiting for the water to come to a boil.

It was surreal, sitting here in the kitchen while a woman lay dead in the backyard. I almost felt like I must have been insane to not be screaming, crying, or a combination of the two. Yet some part of me had accepted it, adapted to it already. I couldn't fathom it, but slowly that part was growing and so somehow I had a feeling that I would take it in stride as though it was something much less horrific than it actually was.

The shrill whistle of the kettle interrupted my musings. I quickly picked up the kettle and set it down on a cool element that was adjacent to the hot one. I turned the dial off swiftly then picked up the kettle a second time. I poured the water into both mugs and dropped a tea bag in each mug, followed by a spoon. I picked up both mugs and walked over to Ivy. I set one down in front her, the other I placed in front myself as I sat down.

I prodded the tea bag with the spoon and watched the dark, inkiness bleed into the hot water. The silence was beginning to wear on me. I felt the need to say something, anything to break the heavy silence.

"You know," I began quietly, "it's not a kind of tea at all. Earl Grey I mean. It's actually just black tea infused with the citrus flavours of bergamot."

The smallest shadow of a smile found its way across Ivy's face.

"Trust you to say something completely unrelated to the situation at hand." She said with a voice just above a whisper, filled with a dullness I that I assumed was stemming from her grief.

"What else _can_ I say?" I asked her.

She shook her head and didn't reply.

My mug was almost completely drained when Ivy spoke again.

"Dad came home early today."

I sipped my tea and remained mute.

"He came upstairs, came into my room," she continued, "I was listening to music. I was really stressed. He didn't like my moping around, said I should be doing something productive. I was too wrapped up in my own world to listen to him. He noticed I wasn't paying attention and ripped the earphones out of my ears. Then he threw them out the window. He started yelling. He told me it was time I did things with my life, time I got a job. I got angry. I told he didn't have control over me. He didn't like that. He started yelling more, starting bringing up things best left alone. I got very, very mad. There was a Venus flytrap sitting on my desk and...and I..."

She trailed off, gripping her mug until her knuckles turned white.

I slowly reached over and laid my hand on hers. Her head snapped up, looking at me with eyes filled with fear.

"I understand...I think." I told her.

Her eyes turned to stare at the contents of her mug.

"Is he..." I licked my dry lips, "is he still...?"

In the softest voice I had ever head she said, "He is lying on my bedroom floor."

"Young man, are you alright?"

I was jolted out of my reminiscing by a voice. I turned to see who had spoken. It was an elderly lady, probably in her early fifties.

I blinked a few times, clearing the memories from my head as best I could. I answered, "Yes. I'm sorry I was just caught up in a memory."

She smiled, "Yes that tends to happen doesn't it?"

"I suppose so."

I left the observatory shortly after that. I remember the rest of the memory with less clarity. I dragged her father's body down the stairs and out into the backyard. She and I dug deep graves for the two of them. We buried them under the oak tree, side by side. I didn't have the heart to say any words as a sort of service. Ivy just cried.

Afterwards she packed her things. We created a false story about her parents going on a trip and Ivy was sent to her a close friend of hers whose name I've forgotten. We looked online for places Ivy could go, countries she could hide in. We knew there was no hope for her being able to stay here. The police wouldn't understand that she had next to no control of her powers and that the entire mess was just a terrible, terrible accident. They might not even believe she had powers at all and just say she was making it up to cover up her true intent. If I hadn't been there I doubt I would have believed it either.

The sun was setting as I walked home. I was in the process of mentally preparing myself for the phone call with Ivy that was sure to take place sometime tonight. I kept touching the phone in the pocket of my jeans, waiting for the call.

I was almost home now. I was walking down a much darker road, a shortcut that went behind most of the major streets. I was so tired at this point that I was dragging my feet. Out of the corner of my eye I saw something. I turned my head to see a silver car slowly driving right behind me. I sped up. So did the car. I went from a fast walk, to a jog, to a flat-out sprint. The car sped up and remained behind me, but it was also gaining ground. I started backing away. I turned a corner fast and ran into someone's yard. I hopped their fence, crossed their backyard, and hopped the back fence which lead onto another street. I ran across the road and into a park. I kept running until I reached the other side. I stood on the sidewalk, panting.

It was quiet. I didn't see the car or hear it. I let out a sigh of relief. Who was following me anyway? And why? I was too tired to try and piece a theory together. I would figure it out in the morning.

My legs were burning from running and they protested when I walked across the street.

Halfway across the poorly lit street, the silver car came racing around the corner at top speed. My heart slammed in my ribcage. The most I could do in my state of shock was turn to meet the vehicle head on.

Just as the car was about to hit me I felt pressure build up inside me. It built up so much it burst and I felt it surge out to the ends of my toes and the tips of my fingers. The engine of the car spontaneously burst into flames. The smoke obscured the driver's vision causing the car to swerve to the left. I jumped to the right just enough to avoid getting hit. The car smashed into a streetlight, the loud sound of the crash filled the air.

I stood panting, staring at the wreckage of the car. What was happening? I didn't understand.

Then a second car, this one black, came racing down the street. It came to an abrupt stop right next to me. The back door opened and two arms reached out and grabbed me, dragging me into the darkness of the automobile.

The only trace I left behind was a broken shoelace and the smoking remains of a silver Audi.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey there! The update for this has been a long time coming. I got a burst of inspiration and wanted to finish this chapter. It's shorter than the last one but I will do what I can to keep them decently long. Enjoy!**

_**Italics = flashback**_

* * *

><p>I hit the leather seat of the black car with a jolt. I heard the door slam shut behind me and I hit the back of the seats as the car sped up. I blinked rapid fire, trying to register what just happened.<p>

"Try not to burn out the tires Günter, we aren't made of money." A quiet voice with a tone of tired irritation came from beside me.

A grunt of affirmation came from the front seat.

I turned to look at who had spoken and was shocked to see that it was the man I had seen earlier today. His unmistakable brown eyes were just as intimidating as before. He took off his spectacles and polished them with a red cloth he pulled out of his pocket. After he was finished he set them back on his nose and turned to look at me.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I am Dr. Lawrence. The driver's name is Günter. We have been watching you, Mitchell."

"Is it really a good idea to be telling him these things?" A gruff voice asked from the front seat.

"We can't expect him to trust us if we don't tell him the truth, or rather the important parts of it."

"What truth?" I disliked being talked about as if I wasn't there.

The Doctor stroked his beard. "Tell me, do you know how an engine works?"

I frowned, unsure where he was going with this. "Sort of."

"Then I shall educate you. I won't bother going into details about different kinds of engines and such, but in order to give you a better understanding I shall use the silver Audi that was destroyed a few miles back as an example. That Audi had a V6 engine, which means it had six pistons held in place by metal cylinders. An engine uses a petrol-air mixture and a spark to create a miniature explosion which converts the petrol into hot gas which allows to the piston to fire. The hot air conversion is what makes the car move. Now, let's say that you completely melted the gas tank and the cylinders. The gas would leak out, a spark flies and boom. An explosion."

It took me a moment to understand why he was telling me this, "So you're saying that's what happened back there?"

He nodded. "Yes. Only, the sides of the cylinders and the gas tank weren't melted as you would expect. They were converted into molten liquid metal and gas."

My small bit of understanding flew out the window. "What?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Surely you know about matter conversion? When you freeze water it turns to ice. When you boil water it turns to water vapour."

I gritted my teeth. "I _know _that. I did make it to grade five. I'm saying that metal doesn't just melt suddenly, not on its own."

"I don't recall saying that it does."

This old man was starting to tick me off. "Then what _are _you saying?"

"I'm saying that someone with the power to convert matter destroyed the engine which caused the car to explode and veer off course."

I stared at him. "So..._you_ did that?"

He adjusted his gold cufflinks. "Incorrect. _You _did."

I froze. No. No, I couldn't have.

"That-that's not possible," I sputtered.

He gave me an amused smile. "I would think you, of all people, wouldn't be so quick to label things impossible."

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well with your close friendship with Miss Ivy I would imagine that her abilities would have made you somewhat less likely to question what is in the realm of possibility."

I felt like he just slapped me in the face. "How do you know about her?"

"We know all about her. We know that she killed her parents and that she is a Contractor with serokinesis. And we know about you, as a matter of fact."

Blood drained from my face. "Me?"

"Indeed. We know about your parents, Sheryl and Thomas who died in a plane accident. We know about your dog, Samuel, who had to be put down for biting a young boy. We know about your friend, Jack, who moved away to Serbia the day before your ninth birthday. In fact, there is very little we don't know about you."

"How?" I demanded.

"We are members of a large organisation whose job it is to know all about certain individuals."

I raised an eyebrow. "And that organisation would be?"

"The Syndicate."

* * *

><p><em>"The Syndicate?"<em>

_ Ivy nodded. "Yes. That is the name of the organisation that will employ me."_

_ I scratched the back of my neck. "Are you sure they can be trusted?"_

_ "There is no other option; it is not a matter of trust as more a matter of necessity."_

_ I couldn't shield my wince. Her joy and full range of emotions disappeared shortly after we buried her parents. _

_ Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Need I remind you that this is how I will be until the day my life ends?"_

_ I sighed. "You don't. I just thought that...well your voice on the phone-"_

_ "For your benefit, nothing more. A cheerful voice to aide you gloss over the truth," she cut me off coldly._

_ "It also seems to make you more compliant," she added._

_ That stung. "You are such a conniving little-"_

_ "My my, you have such difficulty controlling your temper," she cut me off a second time._

_ Rage bubbled inside me. This happened constantly. This Ivy, this new Ivy, got under my skin with no effort on her part. She was different now, so different. Time and time again she drew me in with lies and falsities, generally over the phone. Then we would meet, talk, and things quickly got ugly. It was idiotic to keep this going, but some part of me refused to believe that Ivy is gone and she is never coming back. I kept hoping that I would wake and she'd be there, smiling and asking me why I looked so upset. _

_ I pinched the bridge of my nose and let out a long sigh. "Whatever. Go to the Syndicate. Become their dog."_

_ "That was my intention."_

_ "THEN WHY DID YOU CALL ME?" I shouted, "Why did you make me bother coming to see you if your mind was already made up?"_

_ "I wanted you to know. And for you to understand that my offer still stands and that I recommend you take it," she said simply._

_ I raked my fingers through my hair angrily. "Wonderful. I'm not coming with you, and that is final."_

_ I stood up abruptly and turned to go for the door._

_ I paused as her voice cut through the room. "This isn't the end. And I'm not talking about our conversation."_

_ I didn't say anything as I left, shutting the door quietly behind me._

* * *

><p>"The Syndicate," I repeated.<p>

"Yes. Ivy has told you that much I take it?"

I nodded mutely.

"I suppose it saves me the trouble. However there is much you don't know."

"And you are here to illuminate me huh?" I asked, letting my irritation show clearly.

"In a way. As with any organization there are secrets, things you can never know. However considering your character the likelihood of you accepting my offer is greatly heightened if I reveal to you important information." Despite my clearly observable dislike of this man being thrown in his face, my tone or bluntness didn't seem to ruffle him. I disliked him all the more for it.

"You haven't offered me anything yet," I pointed out, shifting my position so I was sitting properly and doing up my seatbelt. What? Safety first and all that. Besides, it helped me feel more grounded.

"The offer is dependent upon your behavior," he replied is his usual unimpressed tone.

Anger and frustration ran rampant through me, as well a sudden pressure and an impulsive desire. I couldn't answer him; I just needed to find something. NOW.

I clawed at the seats around me, trying desperately to find it. I wrenched my seatbelt and I heard the telltale click that announced I was no longer restrained. I reached forward and ran my hands along every surface in the front seat and then the back. It wasn't here. I had to find it.

Then, about as suddenly as my impulse had appeared, the Doctor pulled out a large, black briefcase and flipped it open. The contents were extremely varied, everything from food and drinks to flowers and ink. I ran my hand over everything, briefly examining the labels. The pressure was building and I thought that I wouldn't be able to find it but then my fingers closed around a bizarrely shaped bottle with transparent liquid content.

Without even thinking I tore the cap off and took a large swig of the contents. A vile chemical and flowery flavor greeted my tongue and made me gag. I forced it down and then smashed the bottle over my head sending the remaining liquid all over my head and shoulders.

There was a silence that followed. Eventually I stopped panting and laid back in my seat, relieved. The pressure was gone, as was the impulse. As I ran a hand through my hair I realized something. What I had drank and poured over myself was perfume. Ladies' perfume. Well.

The Doctor closed the briefcase and chuckled. "Interesting. I am quite eased in mind that you aren't one of those self-mutilator types. I find them barbaric."

I coughed and wiped my tongue on my sleeve, trying to get the disgusting taste of perfume out of my mouth. Why did I do that? What was the point?

"If you're wondering why you behaved that way it is because that is your payment."

I picked at my shirt, freeing more scent into the air. It smelled like geraniums. I sighed and turned to him, my anger being replaced by fatigue and a growing headache, and raised an eyebrow. "Payment?"

"Yes. Obeisance, it's sometimes called. It's your contract payment, the price you pay for using your powers. Every time you use them you will be obligated to counterbalance it, and in your particular case it is ingesting and pouring scented substances on yourself, perhaps even specifically ladies' perfume though that will require further study. Surely you wondered why Ivy buried those rocks and made those marks?"

That was a good question. I hadn't even thought about it, and despite the fact that I had tried to shove the memories down into a dark vault I should have paid closer attention to Ivy's actions. Because now I was...well I was like her.

"Now for my offer." He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket and handed it to me.

I shook my head. "Listen Doc I don't sign things, especially from people who kidnap me."

"It would seem you have not reached the conclusion that you have no other choice."

"There are other ways besides you people!" I snapped.

"Name one," the Doctor countered coldly.

I opened my mouth and was pleased to hear the silent sound of my pride dying as no response came to mind. It also didn't help that I recalled that Ivy herself had said that there was no other choice.

His eyes hardened. "The police won't side with you or even believe you, however their superiors will know all about your kind and when they find out your connection to Ivy it will only be a matter of time before they try to coerce you into their ranks, by force if necessary. Or perhaps they won't even put in the effort and simply kill you, after extracting every ounce of information regarding her of course."

"They can't trace it back to me," I said quietly.

The Doctor didn't say anything in response so I kept going. "They'll never know. I can hide out and skip town. They is no way this can find me, there isn't enough evidence-"

"You think you're the first?" he cut me off.

I blinked in surprise.

"There are thousands like you out there. They might not have assigned you a number yet but they will. Every time you use your powers, somewhere out there a star flickers. There are teams of people who watch the sky day and night for activity, and the second it happens they have it recorded in their computer systems. You can't hide forever; you probably couldn't even hide for that long considering you are just barely an adult who has no experience outside of this city and certainly not of his powers."

I frowned deeply, but couldn't find a retort. I did discover that I was right about one thing: the Contractors and the new sky were connected, and now I knew exactly how. I had done research and discovered that the new stars were false because they couldn't have been anything else. I wasn't sure why or how but after the Gates appeared the sky wasn't really our sky anymore, it was theirs. And now, I guess, it was mine. The residue of the perfume was beginning to burn my throat and make my tongue tingle.

"If you want to throw your life away by all means do so, but I am here on Ivy's request and I would rather not be subjected to her...disappointment." He said the last word slowly and with an obvious distaste.

I couldn't help the smirk that made its way onto my face. "Scared of her?"

He straightened his tie, which had become slightly crooked. "More of a reasonable amount of caution, and that is something I recommend you have as well."

My smirk turned into a snarl. "I know Ivy better than you do."

"You _knew _her. Don't fool yourself into thinking she's the same as before the incident, because that's just not how it works."

"Then how does it work?" I snapped, "Because I don't have a goddamn clue!"

I let out a frustrated hiss and massaged my temples. This was getting out of hand. I could barely grasp what was happening to me and he kept throwing curveballs at me.

The Doctor sighed, "The 'way' it works isn't a concrete manual, but there are things we know for certain, and we will share them with you in exchange for your agreement to become an agent working for us. The important thing to remember is that they'll keep coming after you, and if you don't find yourself some protection you'll be walking blindly into your own demise."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Who is 'they'?"

"They," he answered, "are the reason Ivy has been contacting you and the reason for problems and shifts in power around the globe. If you want to understand why, I suggest you sign the paper."

I pulled on my hair in exasperation. Just when I think I have a handle on thing he tears the carpet out from under me. Again. I didn't trust them, but the problem was they seemed to know what they were talking about and I didn't have anyone else who did. Unless you count Ivy and I don't because it turns out that she's in league with them and has been for a while.

I pulled my mouth together in a grim line and looked the Doctor in the eye. "Give me a pen."

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><p><strong>Ta-dah! I hope you enjoyed that chapter. I re-edited it for errors so it should be pretty good however if I missed something please let me know! Review if you like but if you don't want to that's fine. See you next time!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello all. Thank you for being patient while waiting for this next chapter. It's not as long as I had hoped it to be but it ends really nicely and I felt that it would be a good cutoff point. I will try to make the next one longer, but at the very least it won't be any shorter. Special thanks to of fan and fic for ideas and motivation. I seriously doubt if this chapter could have completed without your enthusiasm, so thank you very much :) And so without any further ado, here is chapter 3.**

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><p>After selling my soul I sat in silence for the rest of the ride.<p>

We stopped in front of my apartment and I was told to gather my things.

I frowned and skeptically asked, "You want me to bring everything I have in my apartment and put it in your car?"

"Given your lifestyle and behavior it is quite likely you will not have much to bring." Dr Lawrence countered bluntly.

My frown deepened, anger festering in my chest. It was quickly and effectively rubbed out by insistent fatigue, which was my mind tiredly telling me that it wasn't worth it and to just let it go.

"Fine." I growled, opening the car door, climbing out and then slamming it shut.

The cold night air was welcome and I eagerly took a lungful. My mind was in a state where I was both completely aware that I was awake and yet desperately hopeful that I was dreaming. How could this happen? I had to stop thinking about it. Now. Before I had an aneurism. I pushed the impossible questions out of my mind and focused on the pathetic few things that I fully understood and could work with. The one particular thing I decided to focus on was the fact that Doctor Lawrence was an idiot. Insulting him made me feel a great deal better so I continued doing it.

"Given your lifestyle and behavior," I muttered mockingly to myself as I climbed the steps up to the third floor, "Yeah whatever. You don't know anything about me. You're just old and stupid and scared of Ivy. Heh. Scared of Ivy, what an idiot."

My ramblings, dishevelled appearance, and strong scent of ladies' perfume may have lead my neighbour, Mr. Schultz, to think I was insane as he saw me walk past him with his miniature schnauzer sniffing at his feet but I didn't particularly care at this point so I strolled past him with my head held high, daring him to comment. He didn't.

I withdrew my key from my pocket and unlocked the door to my apartment. The heavily tarnished brass numbers 314 seemed to shine in the moonlight. I shut the door behind me and surveyed the room. The good Doctor was right about one thing: I didn't own much.

The kitchen portion of the room was pretty bare save a small table and one chair. In the living room section I had a beaten up couch with the worst kind of green fabric which I slept on. A small potted plant relaxed on the sill of the only window I had. It was supposed to be an orchid, a gift from Ivy a lifetime ago. Problem is the thing has grown about an inch in three years and is just a green stem with two large leaves on it. A pitiful excuse for a flower if there ever was one, and there are some believe me. Still, I can't help but be attached to it. I even named it: Flour, as in the cooking ingredient. All I can tell you is that it seemed clever at the time.

The bathroom had what all bathrooms have: a toilet, a sink and a shower. Oh, and towels. One towel actually. It's blue, thought you might like to know.

I gathered up the only things worth bringing: two week's worth of clothes, my toothbrush, my wallet, my passport, a backpack to fit it all in and Flour. What? We've been through a lot together; I wasn't just going to leave her there. And yeah, she's a girl.

I locked the door of my apartment behind me, not out of any real desire to keep my furniture safe but rather because old habits are hard to break. After all, I probably won't ever see this place again.

I shuffled resolutely back to the car. My head was aching from all the stress I was under and the fact that I was both physically and mentally exhausted did not help. I have never been one for authority but having someone in charge and telling me what to do right now was a bit of a relief, but I would die before the Doctor knew that.

I put my backpack in the trunk and brought Flour with me into the backseat of the Bentley. I set her on my lap and traced the contours of her leaves moodily, saying nothing.

The Doctor spoke up, "And what is that?"

I assumed he meant Flour. "This," I responded bluntly, "is the best relationship I have ever had."

"Oh really?" he retorted, sounding mildly amused, "and why is that?"

"Because it's the only thing that has stuck with me for this long." The coldness of my voice surprised even me.

I was pleased to hear the lack of sound in the air as the dear Doctor had nothing further to say.

We drove for a while. Forty minutes I think. We ended up at the airport. After having my brains scrambled the monotony of airport security was a blessing.

We eventually found our way to Gate 29. Günter said a brief, emotionless goodbye; he wouldn't be coming with us. He did shake my hand though, I thought that was nice. We sat down heavily, me cradling Flour in my lap and the Doctor sat beside me. I vaguely recalled that taking Flour onto the plane with me was not strictly allowed, but a few words with the Doctor they let it slide. Besides, it's not like I could take the plane down with a flowerless orchid. But Ivy could, so i guess they have reason to be nervous.

We sat there for another while. My mind was still quite sluggish and I registered very little beyond the state of my dirty shoelaces. A voice came over the intercom informing us that it was time to board. I trudged along onto the plane and then shoved my backpack in the overhead compartment above seat G3. I took my seat and the Doctor sat beside me.

The Doctor hadn't spoken to me since we were in the car, but now he chose to break the silence, "You have questions, I would imagine."

I looked at him incredulously, "What, and you'll answer them?"

"I will answer what I can." He replied carefully.

"Is it safe to talk about here?" I asked, looking around us in suspicion.

He shrugged off his jacket and folded it neatly before storing it under his seat, "It is as safe as a public place can be. Besides, anyone who overhears us will simply think we're insane."

I sighed, "True. So where are we going?"

"Japan, specifically Osaka. Giancarlo will be there to meet us. And before you ask, Giancarlo is a member of our team. He is also a Doll."

I blinked, "A Doll?"

"Yes. Shortly after the discovery of Contractors was the discovery of Dolls. Dolls are mediums; they can send spirits to observe the world around them. This makes them invaluable for reconnaissance missions, but they have another quality which our superiors see as vital: they are emotionless."

"I-wait what?"

He straightened his fractionally crooked tie, "You understood perfectly well. They do not posses emotions; they will do as they are told because they have no incentive to do otherwise. Though..."

I picked up on his hesitation, "Though?"

He shook his head slowly, "Though I...I have seen a Doll cry."

I made a face, "But you just said-"

"I _know _what I said. None the less, I have seen a Doll cry. And it does make me wonder."

There was a pause, then he continued as if he hadn't just revealed something rather personal, "Giancarlo will be there. He will take us to a hotel where you will be given a few hours to recover from the long flight. We will then begin your training."

I pulled another face, "Training?"

He raised an eyebrow, "Surely you didn't think this would be a vacation? You will train, daily, until you have a steady control over your powers."

I groaned, "Yay."

"Indeed. Your teacher will certainly have her hands full."

"Her? You mean you won't be my teacher?" I did my best to hide my eagerness.

The good Doctor removed his glasses and observed them closely, removing an eyelash resting on one lens, "As tempting as the position would be no, I will not. It would be impractical to teach a skill that one does not already possess."

I felt a piece click into place in my brain, "Oh so you're-"

"Not a Contractor. Did you think that I was?"

I scratched the back of my neck, "Sorta. Maybe. I dunno."

He slid his glasses back in place on the bridge of his nose, "Regardless, I do not have the appropriate ability and so would be an improper teacher. The woman who will teach you is Lady Gray, who is accomplished at Odokinesis."

"She manipulates Dodo birds?" I said sarcastically.

"Odokinesis is the manipulation of scent." He retorted coolly.

I leaned back in my chair a cracked my knuckles idly, "That doesn't seem very useful."

Dr. Lawrence smiled, "You think not?"

"Well name one thing it would be good for." I challenged.

"I will name four. She has the ability to put enemies to sleep, confuse them, cause them to panic, or blind them with seduction among other things. Is this not useful?"

I was taken aback, "How can she do that?"

"Pheromones. She can manipulate ones that are already in place or excrete some of her own into the environment. Everything from Adrostenone to Estratetraenol can be changed or fabricated. Quite remarkable really."

I had to concede that he was right, it was pretty neat. But his word choice made another question bubble to the surface of my thoughts.

"Do I get a skill name?" I asked him.

He looked a tad baffled, "I beg your pardon?"

"You know, Lady Gray gets Odokinesis, do I get something?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment, "Materikinesis I suppose."

My brow furrowed, "What do you mean suppose?"

"Well, there are not exactly proper terms for what your kind do. Not in the English language anyway. Odokinesis is derived from the Latin _odoratus _meaning scent and _kinesis_ meaning an undirected movement in response to an external stimulus. _Materiae _is Latin for substance and therefore the manipulation of substance or matter would theoretically be Materikinesis. The term for Miss Ivy's gift is Serokinesis, _sero_ being Latin for the verb to plant or sow."

"Makes sense." I said, "But what's with all the Latin?"

"Latin is the language of scholars. It is also what scientists originally used to categorize their finding, so I thought it appropriate."

I narrowed my eyes, "Did you just call me a finding?"

He reclined his chair nonchalantly, "I do believe I did."

I huffed but didn't have any sort of comeback, so I said nothing. Sitting comfortably and in relative safety had also allowed my body to relax to the point where I was sufficiently drowsy. I yawned and shifted around in my seat until I got comfortable. Stupid airplane seats.

"Do you have any more questions?" I heard the Doctor ask through my closed eyelids.

I yawned a second time, "Too tired. Talk later." My vocabulary suffered greatly when I was tired.

"Very well," was the last thing I heard before I drifted off to a blissfully dreamless sleep.

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><p><strong>And there you are. I hope you enjoyed and plan to stick around to see what happens next. Sorry if you found this a bit dull, but there can't be action all the time. See you next time.<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! I was hoping to have this out a week or two earlier but things were a little hectic and I got the flu a little while ago and yeah. But here it is, ta-da! One again, a big shout out to Aerysa and of fan and fic for their support and advice. Thanks so much!**

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><p>I awoke to the sound of the airplane's wheels touching the ground. A perfect time lapse for me, as I had fallen asleep before the airplane had even taken off and luckily the plane was blessed with a rare breed of stewardess who didn't try to wake you up when you were clearly sleeping.<p>

I was not prepared at all for the sheer multitude of people in the airport. Being from a relatively small town in North America I couldn't fathom the amount of people I saw after stepping off the plane. Getting my luggage took a long while, though security was oddly light. Doctor Lawrence flashed a badge of some sort to a few select people and we got waved through rather quickly. This had probably happened at the other airport but I had been too tired to notice.

After we arrived outside I noticed a boy standing next to a cherry red Lexus IS. He looked to be about twenty or so. He had curly, ebony locks and eyes so dark they seemed black. His skin was tanned and he was dressed in a navy suit.

He turned and met my gaze with a blank stare. For a moment I thought I could see a dark pit reflected in his eyes, but then I blinked and the pit was gone.

"Giancarlo."

The man looked away from me and instead regarded Doctor Lawrence with blatant apathy.

"This is Mitchell. Take him to the hotel and then at 4:00 drive him to the see the Lady," the Doctor instructed.

A curt nod was the only reply Giancarlo offered. My luggage was put into the trunk of the car and I slid quietly into the back seat.

I spent most of the trip to the hotel gawking out the window. There were so many people, so many buildings, as well as an obscene amount of birds. That was probably the most insignificant detail but it was something I noticed constantly. A lot of birds. Everywhere.

We reached the hotel by 12:00 pm so I had four hours to relax. My things were moved to a room but Giancarlo refused to let me unpack.

"I have been instructed to inform you that no unnecessary amount items may be removed from your bag during the course of your brief hotel stay." Giancarlo's voice was surprisingly deep with no hint of any discernible accent; his English was better than mine.

I frowned. "And just how brief will it be?"

"We will leave at 4:00 pm exactly and we will not return. Miss Ivy has not arrived and will not arrive for a several days. However, Lady Gray will be ready to receive you in a matter of hours. You will remain in her care until Miss Ivy arrives."

I pulled a face. "I'm not a child. I don't have to be taken care of," I growled.

"You have shown me nothing that would prove your statement to be true. You have leave to relax and do what you will, providing it is within the parameters of the hotel." Giancarlo handed me the electronic room key, face impassive as ever.

"Yes warden," I muttered dryly.

For a moment Giancarlo just looked at me.

"What?" I asked, eyes narrow.

"Your attitude and speech patterns are of a certain, rather abrasive variety. Likely they will make an interesting compliment to the temperament of Lady Gray. I will be leaving to complete other errands," he answered monotonously.

My brow furrowed, pondering his remark.

"What does that even mean?" I called out to him as he left. He didn't respond, not that I really expected him too. Still bugged me though.

After taking a shower I then proceeded to mess around for a bit. Nothing was good on TV, all the movies sucked, I had a stunning view of absolutely nothing interesting, and after the fourth trip to the ice bucket for no reason I decided to see if there was a pool.

Turns out there was a pool, so I went swimming. I wasn't the only one there, unfortunately but I managed to relax a bit anyway. Hot tubs have that effect. You can go in and think that you won't relax; you can swear to yourself that you won't, but you do. It's one of the few concrete facts of life.

Alone. Again. This time in a hot tub. I let my thoughts wander aimlessly.

Why was Ivy not here? I travel thousands of miles across an ocean and abandon everything safe and sure in my life and she doesn't even have the decency to be here on time. Damn her. Damn this.

Somewhere along the line I guess I decided to slowly starting to accept things. The Doctor had given me some decent answers on the plane and I would probably get more answers from this Lady Gray person so I might as well just wait and see what happens. I am too far-gone now to consider turning back.

I noticed that clock on the wall read 3:30 pm. I decided to head back to my room and dry myself off, not because I wanted to be on time but really because I hated when my fingers got wrinkly as they were now.

I was dressed and ready when Giancarlo arrived. To my surprise he looked disheveled; his clothes were torn in random places, his hands were wrapped in bandages that were once white but now had crimson seeping up to the surface and I could have sworn that a chunk of his hair looked like it was singed.

"Get your things. Immediately." His voice brooked no argument.

Four minutes later we were speeding out of the parking lot of the hotel. We crossed intersections at breakneck pace, switching lanes while barely managing not to clip other cars or hit a pedestrian full on. I gripped the seat so hard my knuckles turned white.

"What happened?" I managed to ask just after we nearly got hit by an adjacent car we cut off.

"We were compromised." His voice was just emotionless as before, showing no hint of the panic that one might associate with his reckless driving.

"What does that _mean_?" The last word of my sentence came out oddly as we drifted around a corner and I did my best not to smack my head into anything.

"It means that the contact I was supposed to meet is either dead or a traitor, neither of which is good for our situation. The organization that has been pursuing us is most likely behind it."

"What organisation?" I demanded. I felt like I was back at square one, having no idea about anything.

"That is not a question I can answer. Keep it in mind for Lady Gray." It was then that he ran a red light, swerved around a bicycle and made a right turn in the span of six seconds.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I grit my teeth almost painfully throughout the rest of the hellish ride before we pulled up to a metal and concrete warehouse with a large number 13 painted in yellow on the side.

"Exit the vehicle," Giancarlo commanded coldly.

"But wh-"

"Exit. The. Vehicle." Each word was punctuated with such forceful flatness that it ended up sounding more menacing that anything I had ever heard.

"Fine." I had meant for it to sound annoyed but it really just came out worried and unsure, the two dominant emotions I was feeling.

I got out of the car and collected my things. The moment I shut the door the tires screeched on the pavement and he pulled a reverse one-eighty and then drove out back into traffic.

I stood there in stupefaction for a solid long while until it occurred to be that moving is something I should consider doing. After surveying the immediate area, I figured that the warehouse was likely where I supposed to go.

There was a heavily rusted, white iron door facing me. I could see no other entrance so I tried turning the doorknob that was in worse shape than the door. It groaned but was stuck fast. I tried a second time with the same result. Finally, I threw all my weight into another attempt only to have the decrepit thing snap under the pressure. Great.

I looked at the now useless piece of metal and determined that there was no way I could reattach it and frankly I didn't have the desire to try. A small amount of satisfaction was achieved when I threw the doorknob across the pavement and hear it smack down and have a chunk break off.

I turned back to face the door. After a few swift, strong and completely ineffective kicks to the door I sat down on the ground heavily. Obviously, it was too solid for me to move.

Solid. I could fix that.

Having given the door a once-over, I calculated that the best option would be to melt down the lock and remains of the doorknob which would allow me to kick the door in. Well, most likely anyway.

I rummaged through my luggage and then triumphantly pulled out the palm-sized, blue perfume bottle. The Doctor insisted I keep a bottle of perfume with me at all times, just in case. He didn't tell me what happens when a Contractor doesn't fulfil their Contract, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that it is nothing remotely good.

A cloud passed in front of the sun, covering everything in a shadow. My eyes were narrowed in a squint as I regarded the area around me. As far as I could tell, the coast was clear.

I gingerly placed my hand over the hole left by the doorknob and concentrated. I felt virtually all the muscles in my body tense up. A familiar pressure gripped my stomach and then it rushed up to my shoulder, down my arm and out of my palm.

All it took was a few seconds before I jerked my hands away so that it didn't get burned by molten iron. It oozed out of the hole and trickled down the door, slow and steady.

Then I was assaulted by another familiar pressure, this one far more demanding. The liquid perfume burned my throat and tasted just as heinous as it did the first time I drank it. It was at that moment that I gave up hope of it ever tasting any better. My hair stuck up in odd places as well and I did my best to wipe most of it off my face before it dried.

There was a small puddle of saliva on the pavement by the time I had finished spitting and coughing. Mental note: get drinkable liquids for next time to cleanse my palate.

The door gave way fairly easily after a well-placed body check though it did shriek horribly from its ancient hinges.

In the gloom of the warehouse I could just make out the shape of someone sitting one of those cheap fold-up chairs about twenty feet away. As my eyes adjusted, more details became clear. Like the fact that it was a woman and she did not look very impressed.

"You are Mitchell?" I was greeted by the cool tone of a Londoner as I stepped inside.

I did my best to shut the door, managing to get it 90% closed. "Uh, yes. So you're Lady Gray?"

Her appropriately colored gray suit looked almost white where the light hit it through the holes in the roof. It matched her slate gray eyes which were rimmed by round glasses that were not obscured by her ash blond as it was pulled up in a tight, high ponytail. She wore no makeup save for matte, red lipstick.

She stood up and brushed dust from her shoulder. "That is correct. And now having addressed your skill level, we shall move on to further testing."

"Further test-what?"I sputtered.

"I chose a secure location to test you and your capabilities so I know what to improve upon and what you already know. The first test was not altogether very promising, but there will be more test with which you can, perhaps, redeem yourself." she answered.

"Hold on, I'm talking about Giancarlo and the nearly-killed-me drive here and the compromised situation. What is going on?!" I demanded.

She raised a well groomed eyebrow, "My, don't we have a sense of self-entitlement?"

That threw me off. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Information is costly", she told me slowly, as if speaking to a small child. "If something is not told expressly to you it is assumed that you don't need to know. That is something to keep in mind for the future."

"I still don't-"

"Then let me elaborate. An enemy organization based here in Japan has kidnapped or killed our contact who works for the Syndicate as we do, and Giancarlo walked into a trap.. What followed is none of your concern. The manner in which Giancarlo brought you here is also none of your concern and you should just be grateful that you did not encounter any difficulty aside from mild traffic. Lastly, I ridged the door so that it could not be opened unless you used Contractor powers for the purpose of seeing your powers in action. That was your first test. We will now move on to the next."

I frowned and didn't reply. Oh yes, I can see that she and I will get along just _great_. Bring out the friendship contract; I'll sign here and now.

"I will take your silence as assent. Follow me." With that, she strode off, each step purposeful.

I trudged behind, taking my sweet time as a pathetic form of revenge. We crossed over to the far side of the warehouse, through a door that lead to a hallway, and then into the first door on our right.

The room inside was fairly small. In the centre was a square wooden table with quite a few transparent spherical bottles. They were arranged neatly in rows, and after a quick count I deduced that there were 35 bottles in total. The liquid inside the bottles was colorless, making all the bottles look exactly the same.

Lady Gray turned to me. "This is your next test. Three of these bottles contain perfume, the rest are water, cologne, or rubbing alcohol. This test will demonstrate how soon after using your powers you must pay your price and whether or not it must be strictly ladies' perfume that is used. You may begin by solidifying the tea in this cup."

She pulled a thermos and a plastic cup out of a navy blue duffle bag that was lying in the corner of the room. After pouring the content into the cup, she handed the cup to me.

I used the same process as before. I focused on the tea and felt the pressure build. As the power rushed out of my fingertips I saw the brown liquid solidify in the cup, preserving small ripples in its surface.

I waited for a few moments. It was not long before I felt more, unpleasant pressure begin to accumulate. I reached forward and grasped a bottle, pulled of its cap and took a large gulp of its contents. I swallowed, unhindered by any burning or vile taste. It was water.

The pressure continued to grow, so water was clearly not right. I grabbed another bottle and nearly vomited when I tasted rubbing alcohol. I managed to swallow a bit of it as tears built in the corners of my eyes.

The pressure didn't even pause. I snatched up bottle after bottle, my mouth screaming at me as nearly all my choices were either cologne or more rubbing alcohol. None of it was helping and I only felt worse.

Panic was rising as steadily as the pressure. I didn't even bother pulling of the cap anymore, I just smashed them against the table and lapped up the liquid while avoid the shattered glass. One thought dominated my mind: WHERE WAS THE PERFUME?

Eventually, as my vision was starting to blur, my hand grabbed empty air. I had drunk all the bottles and none of them were perfume. Suddenly, my legs could no longer support my weight and I collapsed so I was crawling on the pavement.

I cried out wordlessly, begin for help from someone, anyone. I needed it and it wasn't here.

A fuzzy blur of red wandered into my vision. My hand flew out in front of me and took hold of it. I felt it give way under my death grip, covering my hand and the floor with whatever was inside. I licked my hand a few times and then rubbed the rest of the liquid over my face and hair, barely registering the pain of having small shards of glass cut into my skin.

Finally, I felt the pressure relent. My vision came back into focus, but my muscles felt like I had just run a marathon.

The sound of me panting filled the otherwise silent room. When I got my breath back, I shakily stood up.

Lady Gray hadn't said a word; she merely regarded me with the air of a scientist looking at a specimen.

Even with my addled brain, I managed to figure something out, "You conniving little bitch." It came out as a low hiss.

She tilted her head, "I beg your pardon?"

"None of those bottles contained perfume. You just threw me the only bottle that did after I drank all the rest. What kind of twisted thing are you?"My voice was hoarse and I gingerly touched the cuts on my face, which were burning almost as badly as my throat, as I accused her.

Her eyes looked a little cloudy, but then they hardened. "Often during a test it is better that the subject be privy only to certain details, otherwise it would jeopardize the test results."

"You jeopardized my life!" I snapped, "This isn't some game. I'm not a little mouse you get to poke and prod."

Lady Gray's eyes narrowed. "You are correct. This is not a game and we are not friends. I am your teacher, and you will learn things my way or not at all. Am I clear?"

I pulled my lips back into a snarl, but didn't answer.

She stepped forward until we stood nose to nose. "I said, am I clear?"

I searched her eyes for any weakness. I didn't find any.

"Clear as crystal." I responded darkly, not breaking eye contact.

She took a step back and picked up the duffle bag, then started towards the door. She called out as she exited, "Step lively Mitchell, we have work to do."

* * *

><p><strong>And there it is! I hope you enjoyed it. Please leave a comment, criticism or praise, it really makes my day to hear what you guys think!<strong>


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